


The waiting room

by Moonstruckidiot



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Hannibal Loves Will, M/M, Not You Hannibal, Will Loves Hannibal, happy ish ending, post wotl, someone save Will Graham
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-12-04 08:27:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11551359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonstruckidiot/pseuds/Moonstruckidiot
Summary: Will takes a seat in heaven's waiting room and talks with an angel





	The waiting room

**Author's Note:**

> this popped into my head, wrote it this evening
> 
> no beta, sorry for mistakes etc
> 
> tiny fic

Will doesn’t know the exact moment of his death but he knows that he is dead. It is the only rational explanation for why he is sitting on a chair in a room which stretches to infinity, and possibly beyond.

He remembers falling, him and Hannibal together into the dark.What happened afterwards, how he died, is not even on the periphery of his mind. He doesn’t know if it was slow and painful or quick and merciful, and it is not of the slightest interest to him.

He is at peace.

Tiredness does not burrow through his bones, anxiety does not burn him and pain does not scream at him.

He feels unburdened. Light as a feather. Maybe happiness, that thing he found so little of in his life, is beginning to stir in the very depths of him.

Even the clothes he wears, the same as he wore at the bluff, feel little more than the kiss of a breeze on his skin. Comforting. There is no blood, no tears and no dampness. They are whole and new, a little like him.

Someone approaches, she has taken a female form but she is not human. Human ideals of beauty fall uselessly at her feet and turn to dust. ‘Angel’ comes quietly to Will’s mind.

Her presence is at once as vast as the universe and as welcome as a spring morning. Will feels safe in a way he cannot ever remember.

She smiles, “Hello Will.”

“Hi,” Will says returning the smile. “I’m dead ain’t I.” He feels no horror in saying those words. To the self he left behind on the cliff it would be a relief.

“Not quite officially,” says the angel pointing at a clock which appears on the wall opposite him. “We like to leave 45 minutes before we rubber stamp it.”

Will laughs. It seems ridiculous, surely if he is in heaven or heaven’s waiting room he is dead.

“You humans sometimes manage to bring people back, so just to be safe we like to keep you here for a while.”

Will looks around the room. “In a waiting room complete with fishing magazines on a coffee table,” his smile is wide and amused.

He would never have expected angels to appreciate humour but the sparkle in her eyes tells Will different.

“Well, we like to make it as comfortable as possible for our new intake. Also on the rare occasion a human is called back to life a mundane experience like this becomes forgotten amongst all the other rooms they have sat and waited.”

“That makes some sort of sense,” says Will as he looks at the clock. The clock runs 45 to 0 and ten minutes appear to have passed.

“Can’t you just snap your fingers and speed it up,” he asks. Surely a being of infinite power can do such a thing.

The angel takes the seat next to him. “We like to keep things as close to normal as possible, hence you feel your body and you experience time. This changes the longer you are with us, but initially it eases the transition, some people are more disorientated than you appear to be.”

Will nods. He breathes in and feels his lungs expand even though he knows they are not really there. “I didn’t expect to be here.”

“You expected to go down and not upstairs.”

“Yes, after everything I’ve done.”

Will finds himself turning towards her, making eye contact. He knows it is her will and not his own directing this action but it feels more gentle guidance then an attempt to control him. He understands all too well the difference.

“We are not quite as strict with our acceptance criteria as some of your old books would have you believe. We reviewed your case and agreed, unanimously, that you belonged with us. You are a good soul. You are marred, but which human who has grown to maturity is not.”

Her eyes see him, all of him and they do not turn away.

“We took account of your childhood, your illness and the forces manipulating you. When you took him into the darkness...

‘Hannibal’, the name she has not spoken flashes in Will’s mind. He wants to say it, acknowledge it, but in this place it feels wrong. Instead he allows it to whisper in the imagined bone arena of his skull.

...you were trying to not only save yourself, but also, those who might be harmed if you lived. We could not cast you down.”

Sadness fill the eyes looking back at Will.

“We only cast down those who are irredeemable. Each time one is cast to the pit we feel like we have lost part of ourselves. We do not do it lightly. ”

Will knows how it feels to lose part of himself. Even amongst the peace of heaven he knows he’ll feel that loss, just as the angel sitting next to him does.

...........

Will feels a light tap on his arm.

The angel points to the clock. She doesn’t say anything.

He knows it is time.

They get up from their chairs.

“I loved him, love him,” whispers Will like a confession.

“We know,” she says as she holds out her hand. “He loved you too.”

He places his hands in hers and she is one of many welcoming him home.

........

Will doesn’t want to be pulled from the warmth and the love but he can feel it receding until not even the tendrils of it are wrapped around him.

It is like he was never there.

There is only darkness. 

“Will, come back to me.” It is a plea and it is a storm, one whose force could destroy heaven and earth.

Will opens his eyes and now he feels pain, bright and sharp.

If he could he would shout, ‘no’, into infinity. He had hoped never to wake up.

There is no peace to be found here, only damnation.

 

“Will,” it is little more than a memory of a whisper but something in him recognises the voice, soft and female, “You don’t have to follow him into the dark.”

 

The end

**Author's Note:**

> I think in this fic Hannibal is the devil, the angels were trying to save Will and welcome him to heaven but Hannibal isn't having any of it.
> 
> I might continue this, based on idea Devil Hannibal always has to fight for Will


End file.
